


Debts Repaid and Futures Forged

by Tahlruil



Series: Winding Roads to Flowering Fields [9]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Exposition, Fae & Fairies, Fae Magic, How Do I Tag, M/M, Manipulative Fae, Mostly Gen, POV Outsider, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:41:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24278284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tahlruil/pseuds/Tahlruil
Summary: The Nemeton in Beacon Hills had once beckoned to many creatures, and none so much as the Fae of the Autumn and Spring Courts. Its untimely death forced an exodus that only now may be coming to an end. Filaenil never fully abandoned what had been their home, and now that the Nemeton is healing they are prepared to find a worthy guardian for the sacred tree. They will do it no matter what, at whatever cost is demanded.Even if that means going behind the backs of the Spark he has chosen and the Wolf that will be his mate.
Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Winding Roads to Flowering Fields [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/872145
Comments: 84
Kudos: 989





	Debts Repaid and Futures Forged

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all! :D I was originally going to take a break from this series just to wrap up some other WIPs... but. XD
> 
> I underestimated how many of you would notice and then be intrigued or annoyed by the way Stiles' blood was left behind. There was also lots of speculations/questions on Stiles and what happened, so I figured I might as well get this hammered out. Filaenil was pretty eager to have me get their thoughts down in writing anyway.
> 
> Some of this was actually originally meant to be at the very end of Spark and Burn, but I couldn't get it to flow right. Plus Filaenil is verbose - over 3k of their exposition felt like an awkward end for that fic. :'D
> 
> So yeah. XD
> 
> Hopefully this explains some stuff and/or prompts new wonderings.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Comments are loved and appreciated. <3

Getting Peter Hale to leave the room before cleaning it thoroughly required a stronger nudge than Filaenil would have given him credit for. It was almost enough to annoy, but they chose instead to be impressed by his fortitude and his drive to protect. It would serve him well and - more importantly - it would serve the man who called himself Stiles.

They could accept Peter Hale's stubbornness as the price for such service.

The body that had once held Gerard Argent was small and pathetic. It was unfortunate that they had been unable to play a part in his death, but again - it was a price and one they were happy to pay. Killing Gerard Argent had been the push that Stiles needed, and his Spark had been lit from within most beautifully. They were honored to have witnessed it, and proud to have been even a small part of making it happen. They only hoped that Stiles and Peter Hale would honor those small gestures just as much, and that the two of them would grow into the Alpha Pair the Nemeton needed.

Reminded of their task, Filaenil grasped the tiny crystal bottle that had been a gift from a Hale long ago. It was just big enough to collect the bit of Stiles’ blood that Peter Hale had been forced to leave behind; later they would need to coax a larger amount from Stiles and from Peter Hale as well. As a beginning, however, what Stiles had left would do nicely. It was blood given willingly in the defense of what he had claimed as his own - there was no better start, and they were sure the Nemeton would accept the offering no matter how small.

They would do whatever necessary to make sure Stiles and Peter Hale became the new guardians of the Nemeton and its territory. No matter what it took, they would bind the pair to the destiny of the sacred tree so tightly that neither could even think of abandoning the task. They could do nothing else, and they would make it so that Stiles and Peter Hale couldn't either.

The Nemeton was more important than mortal feelings or desires; it always had been, even after its death.

~.~.~

Filaenil had been called back to the place mortals called Beacon Hills multiple times since the Nemeton fell. To their knowledge none of the rest of their court had returned after leaving, not even their Queen. It wasn't so surprising, perhaps, not when knowing Beacon Hills could no longer shelter them or their kin the way it once had. Once the Nemeton had glowed brightly in their consciousness and had flooded the area around it with power and grace. They had come to maturity under its far reaching branches, as had many in their court. Seeing the hollow shell of a stump the Nemeton had become was one of the only truly painful things they had ever encountered. Many felt the same, and so none of their kin returned, choosing instead to spend time at one of the few other places of power that remained.

But none of those could be _home_ , so they wandered and sometimes went back to the place that would always call to blood and bone.

They had returned the night that the Hales fell to the fire of Hunters through no intention of their own. For all that she had dismissed the Fae entirely during her life, Talia Hale had dared try to summon them as death circled her pack. She had called loud and clear, begging for the help of the Fae; Filaenil had heard and had come, but only to witness. The Hales had been guardians and careful friends for centuries, until the Nemeton was killed and that relationship rotted on the vine.

Where her mother had tried to appease the few Fae that lingered, Talia Hale had turned her back on them all. They did the same in turn, because no such insult could go ignored. Not even Ashnal of the Spring Court had answered the dying Alpha’s plea, simply watched the fire from the other side of the clearing. She had inclined her head to them in recognition when their eyes met, acknowledging the memory of the accord their courts had once shared under the heavy, magic laden boughs of the Nemeton.

Then Peter Hale had tried to save his faithless family, ready to die to do it, and Filaenil found they could not allow that to happen. Even when the rest of the Hales slowly turned away, he had continued the offerings. He had struggled in vain to keep the links between the Fae and his family intact. Peter Hale was the last to truly believe, the last to acknowledge his small place in the web of magic slowly fading from the mortal world. He could not be allowed to die

Ashnal had reacted first, to their slight shame. She dampened the effects of the wolfsbane that fueled the flames and kept Peter Hale from burning to the bone at the first lick of them on his person. Maybe she had hoped that Peter Hale would accept the small 'miracle' and do the sensible thing - run. But loyalty ran thick in Peter Hale's veins, and he would not abandon his task. So they stepped in next, found the flickering light of Peter Hale's life-force and bound it tightly to the land so that he would not leave the mortal plane in his mad quest to save his family.

They and Ashnal both kept the final barrier before Peter Hale from falling under his furious onslaught. Saving the Hales, especially at the expense of Peter Hale, could not be allowed to happen. Sometimes the floor of the forest needed to burn clean in order to strengthen what remained. Turning one's back to the Fae was an insult not to be suffered, and now at last the balance was paid and the debt could be forgiven.

Soft-hearted Ashnal kept the children from suffering pain as their short mortal lives came to an even quicker end. They did not question it, though neither did they agree. In remembrance of the treaty they kept themselves from interfering in Spring Court business.

When Peter Hale was safe from the flames, when they knew he would survive, Filaenil had left. Their task was done and the event witnessed; there was no reason to linger further. Not when two Hales had escaped entirely, one of them now cradling the Hale Alpha Spark in her breast. Sure the wounded wolf would be safe in the care of his niece and nephew, they left for a different Nemeton that would never shelter them correctly but that was as close to home as they could come. They would return when Peter Hale was better, they decided, to see if he and his remaining kin would again take up the mantle the Hales had always worn in the past.

But mortal time was tricky, and the next time they thought to check in on the wolf they had chosen to save, Peter Hale was still a shell of himself. His family had abandoned him - _faithless_ as so many modern Hales were - and left him to suffer alone in his pain and growing madness. It was another insult that they refused to allow even if it had not been offered to them. They left a small thread of power for Peter Hale to follow, a little path that would help his soul find its way home.

Then they left again, because their Nemeton was still dead and Peter Hale was capable of balancing the scales on his own.

It was the Sacrifice of the children called Stiles, Scott McCall and Allison Argent that called them back for good. Those three souls had _screamed_ across worlds, louder even than a _bean sidhe_ mourning an impending loss. They could not help but turn their gaze back to Beacon Hills, change suddenly on the horizon. Home beckoned louder than it had in decades, and their heart longed to answer. This time their entire court felt it, as did those who belonged to Spring - it was time to for them all to go _home_.

They could not return immediately, however. The Summer and Winter Courts had heard that scream too and knew what it could herald. A new start for a Nemeton was a powerful thing, one that had not happened in an age. Those Kings and Queens argued that the old accords did not hold, that the boundaries of the old territories needed to be rewritten. The Winter Queen had made the best appeal in their opinion, ice in her eyes as She reminded all that it had been Her decree that first gave shelter to the displaced Fae of Spring and Autumn. There was a debt there, one that demanded repayment.

Filaenil was unsure what price was agreed upon, only knew that there was a slump to their King's shoulders now and a distance in their Queen's gaze. The Monarchs of Spring were equally changed, and they were sure that the reigns of all four would fall short of the thousand years that had originally been Their right. That meant it was time for them to quietly craft alliances to better position themselves for when the next Monarchs came. If they were careful and clever, they could become so much more than a minor Lord.

With that aim in mind they were one of the first to return, carving out a small territory close to the Nemeton that already pulsed with new life. They were not surprised when Ashnal found her own place near to their own. She was probably of the same mind as they were, and in their opinion they both had earned it. It had been them who returned even when there was no benefit to it, they who had saved Peter Hale. Ashnal had always been something close to a friend, and they were pleased to be so near to her now. It would be no chore to build an accord with her stronger even than that between the Autumn and Spring Courts as a whole.

Together they would protect the Nemeton, and do a far better job than had been done before.

They were deeply pleased when the sacred tree began to whisper to them in the night. At first it was all joy at being reborn and happiness at the trickling return of the Fae. Then came the ache over the loss of the Hales, the empty desperation for a new caretaker and guardian. Filaenil had thought the Druid Deaton would try and fill that void, but instead he tried to rip the new growth up at the root. He would die as soon as the Monarchs returned; the Queens had claimed first rights on his death and would vent Their combined wrath on the Druid or Filaenil would have already made it so.

With no ability to wreak vengeance, they turned their attention to finding a new guardian. If they could do it, if they could be the one to find the mortal who would fill that void, their claim to power would be even stronger. They began to watch the mortal settlements nearby and at first despaired. Even Peter Hale was unsuitable, and the disappointment of that cut at them like a knife made of iron.

Their frustration at the state of things almost made them interfere with the business of the Nogitsune. It would have been a fierce fight, one that would have made them feel better in the moment. Thankfully they remembered in time that Chaos and Void both were beloved by their King; He had once thought to forge an alliance with the Nogitsune. He had even allowed the creature to continue to take shelter in the Nemeton's roots, had allowed the wounded and drained Nogitsune time to feed and regain its former strength.

If only the Nemeton hadn't fallen, their King might have had His wish. Instead the sacred tree had been killed, and the Nogitsune went feral and furious without its sustenance. Still, out of respect for that broken wish they continued to stay their hand, and oh had it been worth it.

Otherwise they might never have noticed the young man who called himself Stiles, might have thought the mortal boy worthless beyond his act of Sacrifice. That would have been a shame and close to a crime, because one day Stiles was going to be magnificent. His Spark was strong even as the Nogitsune tried to smother it. It kept the mortal safe and allowed the Nogitsune to be expelled without fatal damage to his soul. He shone brightly even as he surrounded himself with children who couldn't see his worth.

Filaenil saw, and so did Peter Hale.

Sending the Nogitsune away had been an easy decision. They dug up the box hours after it had been laid to rest and took it to their King. The creature might be wounded beyond repair, they weren't sure. His King would be the one to know, and they were more interested in seeing if Stiles could be what they all needed. The Nogitsune was as good as forgotten as soon as they left it behind.

There were other candidates that had to be tested, and they did so with vengeful glee. Making sure the unworthy failed was as simple as breathing, and most of the time they didn't even reveal themselves while doing so. They started at the edges of Beacon County and worked their way inward, spiraling ever closer to their true goal. When they at last returned to Beacon Hills, Stiles was nesting with Peter Hale and that only sealed their certainty. They had ever favored Peter Hale and were delighted to see the two of them together. A pair was always better than one soul working alone.

The feral Omega given a taste of an Alpha Spark was a test that Scott McCall never had a chance of passing. The young kitsune had almost failed it for him, then had been taken under Stiles' wing. She would interest the Spring Court just as the Nogitsune had drawn the attention of the Autumn King. That she was growing closer to Derek Hale only confirmed it - those who looked to Spring were taken with the offerings the wolf put together under Peter Hale’s intruction. He would be favored by Spring alongside the kitsune, even if Filaenil would never see Derek Hale as anything other than _faithless_.

Unlike the others, Stiles passed every test they could devise, even when he didn't know he was taking them. His Spark was strong and filled with so much potential. Stiles could be _anything_ , but Filaenil was determined that he would become the Nemeton's guardian and part of an Alpha Pair with Peter Hale, the wolf who had deserved better than his faithless family had given him. As a pair they would be unstoppable, worthy of being a bridge between the Fae and the mortal world. The two of them would be able to stand up to the courts, would be strong enough to mediate between Autumn and Spring when the inevitable conflicts arose.

As an Alpha Pair they would be perfect, which kept them from feeling any guilt at limiting what Stiles could be. There was no other that would do and the Nemeton needed him. The land needed him, and Stiles already felt that call. Filaenil was unashamed of the steps they had taken to ensure the Spark would never feel the pull of other possibilities. If there was a price to pay for it they would do so with pride. Even if it meant their death, they would never regret all they had done. They would face whatever punishment might come with a calm eye and a steady heart.

Stiles had already shown himself capable of Sacrifice; they could do no less in service of the mortal that had given the Nemeton new life.

~.~.~

"I took the memory of Stiles and the wolves from the other mortals." They wouldn't have bothered, but Ashnal was invested in details. She was good at such things, and better than them at understanding mortals. If she thought it important, it was. "You pressed Peter Hale hard," she observed, a hint of reproof in her voice. "The echo of your influence lingers in his mind. It’s strong enough that he might recognize it once the novelty of feeling Stiles fades."

"It was necessary. Even distracted by the new bond he was determined to remove all evidence that they had been here. I needed what little blood Gerard Argent managed to draw. A chance like this--"

"You still should have used a gentler touch."

"Or perhaps you should not have left me to do it alone, if you have such strong opinions on the matter."

"I was commanded not to interfere overmuch. My King and Queen are not as sure as yours." She paused, words hovering on her tongue that would decide how strong the alliance between the two of them might be. They felt her weighing her loyalties, knew she was thinking on how the life was slowly draining from the Spring and Autumn Monarchs. "My Queen especially is unconvinced. She may try to find a different champion."

"Who? Who could be more fitting?" Though insulted on behalf of Stiles, they were also smug to know that Ashnal had chosen to court their favor instead of currying it with her Monarchs. She would be a good ally in the centuries to come.

"She favors Scott McCall." Their snarl did not even make her pause, though she did raise one shoulder in an elegant shrug. "He is a True Alpha--"

"If She believes that then She is sadly a fool. I would bet my antlers that his Alpha Spark was given to him by the Druid Deaton."

"She would argue that you gave Stiles his."

"Stiles is a Spark and the potential was always there. I barely did anything to..." Ashnal did not look impressed with his protests, her wings fluttering restlessly and her tail lashing the air. "I guided him. I forced nothing and gave him no Gift and not even my true favor."

"It might not take," she cautioned instead of continuing to press the matter of their involvement. "He still has choices to make. I was here when his Spark tried to take the title of Alpha and I saw when the boy balked." Her voice was sharp, brooking no protest from them. "I saw how quickly the red left his eyes. Stiles may yet disappoint us, and without him Peter Hale will never be the Alpha the Nemeton needs."

She was right, and they wasted a moment on the wish that they had been more attentive as Peter Hale had healed. Maybe if they hadn't kept leaving things could have been different. But they had, and Peter Hale's brief time as an Alpha had been less than satisfactory. The land and the Nemeton would not accept him as such unless he was tempered by another.

They knew without asking that Peter Hale would accept no one but Stiles.

"But his eyes _did_ go red," they reminded quietly. "There is a good chance that he will embrace being an Alpha."

"Does your Stiles know how much he stands to lose if he does? With the strength of his Spark he could be so much more. Becoming the Alpha of this territory will make that impossible. Does he know how much he will sacrifice for that choice?"

"No."

"We will have to make sure it stays that way." They were glad the Spring Court was only mostly inclined to show mortals kindness. A member of the Summer Court would never agree to their manipulations. Those who had chosen Summer would insist they be open and _honorable_ even if it would cost them Stiles. A child of Spring knew there were some things more important than honor.

Ashnal's words were also another declaration that she valued their alliance, and a condemnation of Scott McCall at the same time. It was reassuring to know that she stood with them in this matter. Her Gifts in combination with their own would surely be enough to secure the future of Stiles and the Nemeton. Together they would make sure Scott McCall was never put in such a position of authority; the boy would make a mess of it anyway. Working with Ashnal would make it even easier to install Stiles and Peter Hale in his place.

As they adjusted their plans to make room for her, they waved a hand over Gerard Argent's husk. The light bruises Stiles had left on his face faded away, and the bit of blood they had been unable to collect in the bottle vanished as well. All that was left in the bed was the body of an old man that had passed away quietly in his sleep.

His soul had been snared the moment it left his body. Already the Kings of Autumn and Spring would be visiting Their tender mercies on him. Gerard Argent had been a blight on the supernatural world for too many years to be allowed to rest quietly in death. He had been a fool to think he could use a werewolf's bite to outrun and outlive his countless sins.

Eventually all insults were avenged and all debts repaid, in death if not in life.

**Author's Note:**

> So now I AM gonna not be posting on this series for a bit, because I have other WIPs that are stressing me out and I need to get them done. XD But this series isn't over and I hope to be back to it soon! Thanks again to all who have stuck with it. :D You all get virtual cookies and hugs.


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